At first, The Body itself halted, like it was awaiting further instructions from the injured Head. Instead, the unexpected happened.
“Aaaah! My nose!” he whinged. “You’ve gone and broken my nose!”
The Head wailed and wailed, and it seemed to William that The Body itself was actually starting to giggle. You know...the way you can spot someone who is trying to repress a good old howl of laughter at your expense? Then the horse came plodding along with his head low and he was glancing up at The Body with a jolly curve in his eyes. Now that he was in the light, and they could see him a little better, he didn’t look that threatening at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. He appeared somewhat frail and tired, if anything.
“Don’t just stand there!” cried The Head. “Get me a handkerchief or something, so I can blow my nose.”
Rolling his eyes, the horse rambled off to the side of the road where he plonked his backside lazily into a cushion of grass. Still sprawled out on the road, the others could but watch in surprise at what was happening. One second they were being chased by this giant devil, whereas the next, here he was, blubbering like a baby. What on earth was going on?
After going into the bushes to find a dry leaf, The Body pressed it against The Head’s nose and he let out a rasping blow.
“I can’t believe you did that,” he moaned.
“Well, bloody hell, I’m sorry!” William yelled back. “But what did you expect? You were running after us with your axe, for God’s sake! I had to do something.”
“Yes, but people don’t usually retaliate,” whined The Head. “They usually escape me before I get to them...which is just the way I like it. Without a hitch. Oh, my nose! You’ve broken it! I really think you have.”
As he carried on howling, William helped Icrick up, and Khrum was patting the dirt off his clothes, and the lad bickered, “Oh, it’s not broken. I didn’t throw it all that hard. It’s probably just bleeding.”
“And how would you know?” huffed The Head. “You certainly don’t look like a physician.”
“I’m not,” answered the lad.
“Well then! Keep your rubbish diagnosis to yourself, if you please!” exclaimed The Head.
“Suit yourself!” the boy said with a tut, shaking his head and grabbing his belongings off the muddy ground.
“Who are ya anyhow?” the leprechaun decided to ask.
“Why, I am the Dullahan of the ancient west...and my name is Crosco. That fine steed you see on the roadside there is Ifcus,” The Head said proudly with a sniff.
But neither The Body nor the horse seemed so enthusiastic about it, judging by their body language.
This meant nothing to him, so Khrum merely shrugged his shoulders and went back about his business.
“You mean to say that you have never heard of me?” gasped The Head.
“Nope. Never heard of you,” said Icrick and Khrum together.
The Head then went into a fit of disbelief. The Body otherwise gestured to his good friend Ifcus to resume whatever it was they were doing before the travellers came along; probably playing a harmless game of checkers or backgammon on a rock someplace.
“HALT!” demanded The Head. “And where do you think you two are going? I haven’t finished here yet. Turn around this instant.”
Again, Ifcus sighed and plonked himself back down. The Body just rested himself upon a rock with his hand on his knee, while the other held out the annoying Head.
“I am the brains of our little organization here,” he explained to the others. “This lug has got the heart, but it is I who has the intelligence. He and Ifcus are always teaming up against me, telling me in so many gestures that I am egotistical, and that I’m always making the wrong decisions. But it’s all thanks to me that we are still around,” he stated, glancing up at The Body, who turned suggestively to the horse. “Anyway, who are you, and what are you doing in these parts?”
William was just about to talk when Crosco shushed him abruptly. Movement had stirred in the trees just a short way off behind them. It was accompanied by a pant and a mild growl.
“Shhh! Stay very quiet!” he whispered.
The Body went into alert and stood tall, slowly turning his shoulders. After a moment, the rustling started again. It sounded farther away this time, but it was still there, somewhere...whatever it was.
“In what direction are you going?” whispered The Head, with a countenance of true worry.
“Why, east,” replied Icrick, who was also whispering, though he wasn’t sure why.
“East it is! I’ve had enough of this blasted place anyway. He can play night-watchman himself...lousy old grump! I trust you have no discrepancies about us joining you?”
They could only presume that Crosco was referring to he who was lurking from within the forest and that it was, in fact, he who had Crosco guarding this pass for him. Obviously the Dullahan didn’t care much for this appointed position and, therefore, wanted out of it. So they concurrently agreed that the Dullahan could tag along for as long as he wished.
“Get Ifcus strapped up and let us go,” he whispered to The Body.
This curious line led onto something which they found very obscure indeed. And yet, it would have been terribly rude to say anything of it, so they pretended like they didn’t notice.
In finding his secret storage place beside a boulder—a hole in the earth, covered by moss and bracken—The Body produced a rather complicated-looking leather harness. He then went over to the horse and strapped him in, so that his legs were tucked in together. The Body then hoisted Ifcus up onto his shoulders with the steed facing backwards, and they were ready for off. A truly bizarre set-up, I’m sure you will agree. A headless, armoured man with a black horse strapped onto his back. But, as I said, the others kept their mouths shut and their minds on their own affairs.
“Let us go. Quickly! Quickly!” bossed Crosco, who was more agitated still.
Suddenly, another snap gave in the woods, along with a snarl, and a very unobtrusive shrieking. With that, Crosco blared out an order...
“RUN!” he yelled, like they’d been spotted.
Off he sprinted, ahead of the rest. The others didn’t hold back either. They knew that Crosco was far more familiar with those parts than any of them, so if he was running, then so were they.
“Why are we running?” William yelled, when he became quickly aware of hasty movement pursuing from the trees behind.
“I took a kill of his one night when he was not looking,” panted The Head as they ran. “I was starving! But he caught me. He said I could live if I watched this path for him and gave him tidings of those who passed through, so as he could hunt for them. I know not if you are familiar with this creature...but he leaves none alive! So I accepted his offer, and have been doing this ever since. I am tired of it though...I have had enough! Especially since you made my nose bleed.”
The noises were getting faster when something galloped across the path behind and stole into the forest on the other side. It was gaining quickly, and his foul shrieking roused ever louder from behind its rushing breaths.
“He’s not friendly so...by the sounds of it,” William asked in a panic.
“Not this one. Quickly, down here!” The Head ordered.
Off the path they bolted, down through the forest onto a great leafy decline.
“Where does this lead?” shouted Icrick, as he hobbled painfully along. “This isn’t on my map.”
“It leads off that path, and that is good enough,” replied The Head when, without warning, there was a huge drop into nothing.
One after another they tumbled off the edge. So much for keeping quiet, as their cries would’ve woken the dead. Down and down they plummeted, with just the sound of breeze in their ears. William suddenly slammed into a fat branch, tumbling and flipping into more and more of them as he fell closer to the ground. He was in a large tree of some sort, with the branches snapping and cracking under his weight as he dropped through. Conversel
y, the others were caught in just the same way, all crashing painfully through the boughs, one after the next. Be that as it may, it was quite a lucky spill in comparison to what could have happened. For had they not landed in its branches, they would undoubtedly have been pancakes on the forest floor far below. Not all of them got out of that tumble unscathed, however.
With a hollow thump, William crashed to the ground, but his right forearm was unexpectedly impaled by two sharp nodes from a fallen limb. Unable to stifle his anguish, he let out an almighty roar. Icrick landed down beside him like a sack of old spuds, and scrambled straight over to him to see what was the matter. A thoughtful chap, and nobody could argue otherwise.
“William! William, are you all right?” he implored.
Wincing with the pain, the lad groaned, “My arm!”
“Oh, dear!” gulped the Grogoch, when he saw the two nodes poking through William’s skin.
“We have to be quiet,” whispered Crosco, who’d landed quite safely in a bush just under the tree.
Meanwhile, Khrum came crawling out from beneath the same bush, spitting and picking pieces out of his cap.
“Can’t you see he’s hurt?” Icrick argued. “I’d like to see you deal with this injury, the way you were carrying on up above about your bloody nose.”
Just then, there came a galloping from the road above. It grew louder and heavier. The others were praying for them not to slow down. And how fortunate they were, for the hooves didn’t let up. They instead dashed straight past their position, and had soon faded altogether. All at once, they let out their breath before focusing their attention back on William.
Putting a fat stick in between William’s teeth, Khrum said, “Here, bite down on this, lad. An’ Dullahan, put a small biteen o’ pressure on the end o’ that branch there.”
“Do we have time for this?” sulked The Head.
“Are ya takin’ the mick or what?” Khrum glowered, but The Body stepped up to help out regardless.
“Oh, very well,” sighed The Head.
Ever so gingerly, Crosco placed the sole of his armoured boot onto the limb, gently anchoring it down.
“On the count o’ three so, Icrick lad,” Khrum said, mouthing the number one to the Grogoch with a secret wink.
Poor William was in fierce agony. He bit down onto the stick as hard as he could. The leprechaun and the Grogoch grasped onto his arm, then glanced at each other for the countdown.
“Ready, lad?” Khrum asked, and William nodded.
“Right ya are! One...”
With a sudden jerk, they yanked his arm quickly and safely from the broken limb. Again, William howled out, almost snapping the stick with his teeth. Painful, but at least it was over.
“That’s not an easy wound to take, William,” Icrick said. “You have some strength in you...I must say. Now, we have to find you somewhere to rest.”
They already happened to be in a strange sort of place, where the moon shone in adoringly through the glade, for a glade it was. A glade beside a running river, in fact, and the rays peered into the very centre by which they were gathered.
It was quite captivating down there in that dell. All trees were in bloom, unlike the forest on the road above. There were faerie lights down there too, gliding by them every now and again. Then, beside the river bank, an old willow tree was stooped, slouching just high of the water. It looked very out of place, seeing as every other tree in that dell were of spruce. Then, across the narrow river, a precipice climbed up to higher ground, to where the tufts of grass were peeking out from the lip above.
“It seems quite warm over here, jusht so ye know...” said Khrum from beside the willow, with his hand out judging the temperature.
Icrick went over to test it for himself, and it was true. It was very warm. As warm as a good campfire, he would’ve thought.
William was very pale by now; from shock, mostly. He was holding his forearm close to his chest as he tried to sit up.
Supporting the boy, Icrick said, “Here, help me get him over there so.”
Crosco removed Ifcus from his back and carefully rested The Head upon a rock before lending a hand. Already The Body was participating much, which was welcomed greatly by the others.
William put his arm around Icrick while The Body (being abnormally strong) was taking immense care in how he handled him.
“Thanks, Crosco,” William groaned, as he hobbled over to lay beside the tree.
The moment his back touched the bark, a great wave of heat flowed right through his body with a pleasant, tingly feeling. It was such a delightfully soothing sensation that he let out a sigh of comfort as soon as it happened.
“That should do you,” smiled Icrick. “Now, just let me find something to dress that arm with. You know how I feel about infections.”
Plodding over to his pack, he rooted around for some materials he could use for the job. That’s when he found his spare yellow hood stuffed in at the bottom. It had a very elegant style to it, having been embroidered with majestic designs and strange runes. It was the type of cloak that one would only ever wear for exceedingly special occasions. Icrick had brought it along in case he would ever need it for such an event. Shaking it out, he turned himself from view of the others, when they heard a sharp tear. A moment later he returned, all smiles and carefree, with a strip of yellow material dangling from his paw. He then did his very best in patching poor William up.
It turns out that it was his father’s favourite cloak which had been passed down by his father before him. It was very dear to Icrick, as his father had passed away only a few years back from the Sadness. William needed mending, however, and the Grogoch did what he felt should be done. A very kind soul he was, with a heart of pure gold.
“I don’t think it’d be a bad idea ta resht ourselves here tonight,” Khrum suggested. “The lad could use it, by the looks o’ things.”
There was William, already fast asleep against the trunk of the old willow.
“I agree, it has been a long day for all of us,” Icrick added.
“But we are still by my pass,” moaned The Head. “You want to rest already? We have only just left.”
“I do apologise, Crosco. But William needs to mend. He needs sleep,” insisted Icrick.
“Yeah, let him resht, horseman,” Khrum agreed. “If ya don’t like it, ya can always go back ta your wood!”
With an awful puss, The Head huffed, “Can’t go back now, can I? As for this boy, you make him sound like a king or something. Doting over him like that. I saw you ripping up a perfectly good cloak to make him some bandages. What was all that in aid of?”
“Look, he’s a good lad,” Icrick whispered defensively, hoping William wouldn’t wake. “No, he’s not a king but he is...special.”
“What do you mean, ‘special’?”
With nothing else for it, they went on to tell Crosco about the return of Mysun, and William’s purpose for being on Lythiann. Of course, The Head threw his eyes up and berated all he heard, but he was still interested enough to keep asking questions about the whole situation. They told him of Drevol and his armies, and about the possible arrival of the new eclipse. But they refrained from including him in the more confidential factors.
For hours they talked about the legend, and all the good which could come from it; until one by one, they all nodded off.
Icrick was the very last to go to sleep that night, having been awake for most of it watching over William. Every now and then, the lad would emit a sweaty moan and start to writhe slightly in his sleep. But Icrick was there to calm him down whenever he got unsettled. It was about dawn when the Grogoch himself finally managed to claim a few hours’ rest. But he soon shifted and woke once William had risen from his own slumber...and he had risen to a very big surprise at that.
“Icrick! Icrick!” he said excitedly. “Look at this!”
Sitting up with a mighty stretch, Icrick had a glimpse of that which William was trying to show him. It turns out th
at it was a truly remarkable occurrence indeed. William’s wounds had completely scarred over to a white tissue, all in the space of just one night. The scars looked like they had been there for years and had gotten to the point where they were hardly even visible.
“Ugh! What’s all this racket about?” grumbled Khrum’s voice from under Icrick’s rucksack (where he’d slept).
When the lad showed him his scars, the leprechaun wasn’t quite as astounded as they were. Still, he showed some enthusiasm, only so they might shut up and go back to sleep for a bit. Either way, William was astonished, and couldn’t help but wonder if the tree might have had something to do with it.
You see, it wasn’t your average willow by any means. It was a very rare gift of nature, kind and welcoming, and, in the daylight, William noticed how its roots emitted a wispy glow. Just a delicate, frosty glimmer at that fine point where the roots sank into the earth. Little did they know that this tree was the only one of its kind and it was, indeed, a Healing Tree.
The Healing Willow mended wounds, spirits, hunger, exhaustion; anything that needed to be remedied. It could heal any affliction other than death, and the most terminal of illnesses, and it did each of them the world of good that night. Their sleep had never been so peaceful, nor did they need to touch the satchel for food that morning. On top of that, Icrick’s ankle was as right as rain again.
When they were up and ready for off, they each had renewed spirits and a newfound sensation of confidence. Even Khrum was there sucking in huge chestfulls of air, complimenting the freshness of it, and saying how ‘Mighty!’ it was to be alive. Most likely, the beautiful morning also had a part to play in their good moods that day. Aside from a slight breeze and cloudy shadows rolling over the hills of beyond, it was still very warm, and nature had come back to being, as it had done times before in that ever so breathtaking world of legend.
The Other of One - Book One: The Lythiann Chronicles Page 20